The cat was alive when we got back, too, thanks to our trusty catsitter.

Joe swears he will never pressure me into going to Philadelphia again. I'm not sure I want to go anywhere again. I get nauseous in the elevator at work, on trolleys, you name it, it will make me puke. It only took a couple incidents to convince selfish older cousins that to bully me out of the window seat on road trips was not in their best interests. I could tell you how many times a 45 lbs five year old girl can puke within twenty minutes, and it's a lot more than you would expect.

Anyway.

I forgot to buy Dramamine. I spent 16+ hours on various Chinatown buses trying not to relive my childhood. I packed an entire bag of knitting projects and only managed to pass the heel on one of the Lion Brand Magic Stripe Toe-Up socks between boughts. I tried the sock on last night, and you know what? I really hate what happens with the heel. The easiest thing to do at this point would be to RIP OUT THE WHOLE DAMN SOCK AND START IT OVER FROM THE CUFF.

So, yeah, big -10 on the knitting scale this weekend.

I also got my wish re. hearing Mandarin on the Chinatown bus, but it was torture. It was right behind me. Two guys were talking to each other, one rather hesitantly, but I didn't think anything of it at the time since Mandarin is often a second language to Chinese (the first being their local dialect.) However, after about an hour of this the guy who spoke fluent, natural Mandarin started explaining the history of Taiwan and the Sino-Japanese War to the other guy. My head whipped around, and yes! Dammit! Argh!

The hesitant guy was American. A red head.

Jealousy gnawed at me for the next couple hours. (That, and motion sickness.)

I really need to either 1) resume studying Mandarin or 2) give it up altogether.

There are some positive things to report, however.

For instance, I did not, in fact, lose my wallet in New York. It was on my coat pocket. (There's a reason why I wore a wallet chain for ten years that has nothing to do with fashion.)

Also, I got to see an awesome sink in the spare bathroom at Bob's house:

I want this sink so badly I can taste it. The bathroom tile is rather common for West Philly, but this sink! The house is Late Victorian and this could possibly be the original sink. (The basin itself is porcelain, a replacement.) If they installed this sink in the '20s I'd be very surprised. Most of the 1920s sinks I've seen are enameled cast iron, either wall-mounted or pedestal style, but never like this. This is straight-up Edwardian, possibly Victorian, in my opinion. (1910s at the latest.) This bathroom also had a wooden wall-mounted medicine cabinet over the sink and a claw-footed tub. The toilet was newish (last forty years).

Sad to say this bathroom was the single most exciting thing for me all weekend. That and Rosalie.

This is Rosalie. She is a very small, very squat cat, and she likes to climb ladders. Rosalie belongs to a couple people we know in Philly who let us crash at their house Friday night. Their house, like many Philly houses, is what I like to call "in transition". Stairwell outside the room we slept in. Watch that first step!

The room we slept in. Our hostess was very proud of her newly sheetrocked walls and loft bed. I covet the little red table. Kitchen wall, with the Madonna and Baby Jim painting. Very festive. Did I mention we stayed with artist types?

Last night, I:

had cheeseless pizza for lunch

drank much coffee

ate tater tots and Tofu Pups for dinner

had half a croissant for breakfast

drank a beer

watched Amelie twice

Later: I did more research and yes, indeed, that is the original sink!